


Marvel

by pauraque



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: Fifteen Minute Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-03
Updated: 2004-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/pseuds/pauraque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wonders of the modern world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marvel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 15 Minute Ficlets. The prompt was "marvel".

"Step right up, gentlemen, and see one of the marvels of the modern world, the mer-gorgon of Santa Lucia! Just three shillings a gander! Please, no ladies or children of tender years!"

The freakshow barker keeps up his patter as Jack slides down against the dock post to sit. It's a chill-bright morning, and there's a patch of sun here, good to warm up a little. The light gleams off the greenish harbour water, nearly blinding. He pulls his hat down to shade his eyes, but never closes them, watching his breath turn to fog as it comes out. The smell of rotting beach debris, enough to put a man to sleep.

He hears the bump-bump of bootsteps approaching on wet wood, and the tempting jingle of a coin purse not fastened well enough to a belt. His bare bit of warmth goes cold across his legs. He tips up his hat and frowns up at the caster of the offending shadow.

The man's a fool, Jack can tell that much straight off— he's facing away, staring off towards the barker with his eyes glazed, chewing on his lip. Pretty lip it is, though, a fetching man if he ever laid eyes on one.

"Don't waste your silver, mate," Jack says.

The man startles and twists round. "What?"

"Mer-gorgon." Jack jerks his chin towards it. "Thing's part fish, part monkey, all dead." He wrinkles his nose, shakes his head. "Black as a cinder. There's your marvel of the modern world— some types'll swallow anything."

The man frowns, squinting against the light. "But _you've_ spent your money on it."

"Said I seen it, never said I paid for the privilege." He extends his hand, like offering a dance. "Sparrow."

"Turner," says the man with a nervous twitch of a smile.


End file.
